


No take-backs

by sunnymins



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, MURDER OF MERINGUE MIXTURE, Online Dating, teeny weeny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3490973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnymins/pseuds/sunnymins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Whas' the matt'r?" He slurs, feeling his eyes droop as he smiles lazily. Derek huffs and Stiles chuckles again, before letting his eyes fall fully closed.</p><p>It's quiet for a long time, no ruffling of sheets nor clicking of computer keys to break the peaceful silence. Stiles takes the moments to mull over the events which led them to where they are now, quietly considering what would have happened if he did one thing differently, if Derek and Stiles hadn't come into each other's world quite so dramatically. </p><p>or</p><p>Stiles and Derek meet on an online dating site</p>
            </blockquote>





	No take-backs

"What was that for?" Derek asks, and Stiles continues to laugh, watching as mini-screen Derek shifts around again, awkwardly plopping himself on his side.

"Nothin'," he snickers and Derek squints his eyes at him suspiciously, causing stiles to eyeroll "okay, fine, fine! It was just ironic was all, usually it's me who's moving around the place during our video calls." 

Despite the computer screen separating them and the fact that his head is nearly burried under his blankets, Stiles can still tell that the faint change of colour on the tip of Derek's ears is him blushing, and that the way Derek pouts grumpily means that he knows he's been caught out for something. _Well, this is a first?_

 "Whas' the matt'r?" He slurs, feeling his eyes droop as he smiles lazily. Derek huffs and Stiles chuckles again, before letting his eyes fall fully closed.

It's quiet for a long time, no ruffling of sheets nor clicking of computer keys to break the peaceful silence. Stiles takes the moments to mull over the events which led them to where they are now, quietly considering what would have happened if he did one thing differently, if Derek and Stiles hadn't come into each other's world quite so dramatically. 

Eventually Stiles feels himself slipping deeper and deeper into the emptiness of his mind and before he knows it, he's drifting off to sleep, distantly aware of a gentle voice saying something that he can't quite... make... out.

 

**********************************************************

 

**One and a half years ago**

 

It's not that Stiles is desperate.

Well, maybe he is slightly desperate, but he's only desperate _not_ to be the only one in his group of friends who isn't dating. Or engaged (Scott and Allison). Or even in an on and off thing, which always seems to be on anyways (Lydia and Jackson).

 Whatever the case, _he's not desperate_ , and he'll _always maintain that belief_ even as he stares down the search results page on his laptop, which all share two words in their headings, 'online dating'.

 He's... he's really honestly not desperate, _okay_.

 So he sits there, scrolls through the top results, ignoring the ones that look like a scam of some sort, because he's his fathers son, and if he's doing this at all, it's going to be properly. And he sifts through the policies of the dating sites that catch his eye.

 Eventually after long agonising minutes of scrolling through and checking out said websites, he settles on one with a safe link, a description that promises no sexuality discrimination, and a pretty colour palette.

 Spark.com. _Who would have thought?_

So he signs up, under the awesome and totally badass username detectivesparklinski and begins to construct a profile that makes him seem more... well more?

 

**_Name: Stiles Stilinski_ **

**_Age: 25_ **

**_Sex: male_ **

**_Sexuality: Bisexual :)_ **

**_Profession: I'm a professional researcher and a deputy, I sometimes write._ **

**_About me: Heyo! I'm Stiles, which is pretty clear from my name up top! Um, basically, I'm an amazing sidekick and best friend, superheroes are pretty awesome, curly fries are the most delicious kind of fry, and I totally value being friends with someone I date, unlike Romeo and Juliet, for so many reasons._ **

**_I once owned a Boa._ **

He doesn't include that he's basically second in command at the Beacon Hills Police station, or that he also writes and publishes books in his spare time, nor that his research position is unofficially for an overseas university interested in mythology, and he especially doesn't mention that his love for superheroes could rival the love of the creators of said superheroes. Because _pshht that's all lame._

Although, as he re-reads everything he's written before clicking the update button, he can't help but feel a little bit disappointed in himself. He's always loved the work he does and always felt a sense of pride, except he's always felt that he could have done better for himself, for his dad. He often wishes that he could have gotten a higher paying job and lived in New York. He wishes he could earn enough for his dad to live off of comfortably without feeling guilty about lending out money to his son.

 Shaking his head to rid himself of his more miserable thoughts, he minimises his browser window and shuts his laptop, stretching out and shivering slightly as the cool air hits his hip where his top has ridden up. He reasons that turning the heater on would be a good idea so that he doesn't get a cold or die of hypothermia, whichever comes first; however, ever since he moved out from home, he's found that his own personal health is, tragically, not as high a priority as the bills he'll have to pay.

 So instead, he rolls out of his chair, stumbling to his feet and makes his way to the shower to warm up.

 

***

 

 When he opens his laptop and reopens the dating site the next morning, Stiles totally doesn't scream in excitement (he may have yelped a little, but in the end, no-one's there to hear), when he sees that positioned in the middle of the page, in a softly coloured red bubble is a notification reading 'someone feels a spark' with a lightning emoji wearing a sickeningly adorable expression under it.

 "How does that..?" he breathes out, nervous excitement bubbling in his stomach as he notices that he has seven new messages.

 

 

  **Messages (7) from Derek Hale**

**3 hours ago**

 

**_My sisters found your page, she thinks that you're cute and has threatened me bodily harm unless_ **

**_I attempt to get to know you._ ** _-Derek_

****

**_oH MY GOD._ ** _-SENT FROM DEREK'S EMABRRASSED SISTER_

****

**_i AM SO soRrY -_ ** _SENT FROMDEREK'S REALLY SUPER SORRY SISTER_

****

**_He's not normally so..._ ** _-SENT FROM DEREK'S SISTER WHO THINKS HE'S STUPID AND NOT_

_CLEVER_

****

**_Okay he is. Buttt, that doesn't mean you shouldn't give him a chance and talk to him?_ ** _-Sent from_

_Derek's sister who has puppy dog eyes rn_

****

**_I think that you and him would make a great couple! -_ ** _I'm just gonna end my things with L k!_

 

**_Also, youre v cute. Cuter than my brother anyways, gosh he's embarrassing_ ** _-L_

[Type a reply]

 

 

Stiles snorts but checks out the guy's profile, his natural curiosity getting the better of his indignation that the dude only sent him a message because of his _sister._

Of course, because this is his luck, while Stiles honestly thought the guy would be more like Matt Daehler, the creep who stalked Scott's fiancé, and Stiles' friend, Allison, the guy in the profile picture is completely the opposite. He's incredibly attractive and has an adorable grin, he's also wearing a shirt that is just tight enough to show how buff he really is.

The picture is amazing in contrast to Stiles', which is of himself at Scott's stag night, cheeks flushed and beanie plopped on his head to keep him warm.

So yeah, he's shocked, and he leans forward to get a better look, only to end up smashing his face onto the keyboard.

 

 

**Message sent!**

 

Stiles' brain malfunctions, because _hold on what?_ He clicks back to the massages tab and just like that, his brain malfunctions again.

 

 

**Messages (9) between Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski**

**4 seconds ago**

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                           **ajgdfakdh? ><^a0[6255**

**AF28$* &)   @SKJH**

**_(Derek Hale is typing...)_ **

**[Type a reply]**

 

  

Stiles has never been faster to react in his life, noticing the message he _accidentally sent,_ and he slams his hands on the keyboard and begins typing, effectively cutting off whatever _Derek Hale_ was going to type.

 

 

                                                                                                                                             **NO HANG ON WAIT THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY**

**Also I think you sent those messages to the wrong person??**

**Like, all I'm saying is a) I'm not cute like AT ALL, I'm as cute as a two headed deer, have**

**you seen the 100? That stuffs pretty freaky at 1 in the morning**

**b) YOU ARE INCREDIBLY ATTRACTIVE? Maybe you could be a hacker**

**if you're saying you're not, like, hot?!**

 

 

 

 

 

After what seems like an eternity, yet is thankfully only five minutes, Stiles lets out a groan of relief as the typing message pops up again.

 

 

 

 

 

**_I... don't, I don't understand how to respond to that... thanks, I mean it, honestly,_ **

**_I just... um?? *pained expression*_ **

****

****

****

****

And Stiles just takes his moment and leans back, breathing in and out slowly through his nose, as he blinks, dumbfounded, before choking out a laugh.

 

 

 

 

 

**I... omg, you're just as awkward as I am... except in more of a confused puppy way?!**

**_I'm not a puppy,_ ** _Stiles._

****

**** **Wolf then, you're a wolf.**

**_OMG, I knew this was a terrible idea..._ **

****

**** **No wait hang on! Dude, look I'm really sorry, I don't**

**really know how to do this? But um, maybe I'll start by properly introducing myself?**

 

 

 

 

There's no reply so Stiles assumes that Derek has already left Stiles to feel overwhelming embarrassment because he drove him away, or Derek is waiting for Stiles to write something. So he does what any sane human would, he goes ahead and bombards Derek with comments. And yet, for some reason, Derek replies.

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                        **Hi, I'm Stiles! I'm 25 years old and a major fan of superheroes :)**

                                                                                                 

                                                                                                                                                                **OMg please tell me I didn't make an idiot of myself?!?!** **PLZ**

 

                                                                         **I mean you don't have to feel obliged to answer, in fact** **don't answer** **if you don't want to, this is 99.9% up to you**

 

**_Only 99.9%?_ **

****

**** **Wait, THAT was what you took out of those messages?**

**Don't worry! Sorry, take what you like from it!!**

**And... well yeah, I mean, there's always external factors like**

**... embarrassed sisters? Internet problems?**

 

**_Embarrassing*  She's embarrassing._ **

 

**You're embarrassing *pokes tongue out***

 

**_Your face is embarrassing._ **

 

**You... omg you didn't.**

 

**_I totally did. I'm Derek by the way, nice to... sort of meet you?_ **

 

**Well, Derek, we're officially friends, no take-backs.**

 

 

 

And that's how it goes.

They slip into a routine of bantering with each other, bitching about their wicked family members; Stiles about his dad never eating properly, and Derek about his infamous sisters causing trouble for him again. They talk about everything and nothing all at the same time, wasting hours by linking each other to funny posts and entertaining videos. Derek asks Stiles why he made his Spark profile so vague and why he didn't include all the things Stiles did and loved, and Stiles shrugs, telling Derek that he was embarrassed; Derek rolls his eyes and tells Stiles that he thinks he's amazing, quirky jobs and all. At one point Stiles asks Derek what he fears the most, Derek answers with fire but never elaborates, and Stiles doesn't make him, instead Stiles comments loudly that he has a fear of marshmallows.

They don't really mention the fact that they're maybe sort of dating, they don't bring up the fact that their relationship has definitely changed when Derek calls Stiles first after running into his psycho ex.

And when they meet each others families for the first time while video calling, they never mention the part where Laura teases Stiles for taking all her brother-sister time for their 'boyfriend time'. They never mention how Scott and Stiles' dad had berated Stiles for forgetting to eat because he was too busy with his 'future husband'.

Stiles always turns red when anyone hints about their relationship, fumbling with what he's holding or tripping over his own feet in shock, because... well because Stiles has found himself considering Derek to be his maybe-something.

Of course he doesn't know what Derek considers him or even _them_ to be, because Derek, in all of his surly-ness and incredible eyebrows and gentle smiles, and the way he laughs like he's never heard something more wonderful... well... Stiles just doesn't know. He can't read Derek's expression like he can read other peoples.

Once, Derek and Stiles were video calling and Derek had literally murdered meringue mix, because Laura had said "nothing, just something embarrassing." And Stiles is pretty sure that the desolation of the meringue mixture had to be violence with intent, somehow. And yet, during the video call, between his teasing and Derek's snorted laughter, he couldn't read the conflicted expression on Derek's face, nor understand why Derek's shoulders tightened and loosened like he was reacting to a million different thoughts at once. He didn't get what Derek was thinking.

And yet, to Stiles, Derek was a mystery that he'd solved long ago but just didn't understand the meaning of yet.

 

**********************************************************

 

**One and a half years from their first conversation.**

**Eleven months since they first talked somewhere apart from Spark.com**

**Seven months since they first saw each others faces.**

Derek has been ignoring Stiles.

Repeat it, play it on loud speaker, email the president, because: _Derek has been ignoring Stiles._ Stiles has been waiting for Derek to call, email, text, video call, even _SNAIL MAIL_ Stiles back, for almost a week now, ever since the night he fell asleep, and slightly suspects that Derek had said something very important to him.

In retrospect, greeting Derek the next day with a " _You're a loser,"_ and then diving straight into his conversation was probably something he should have thought through? Whatever the case, Derek hasn't spoken to Stiles and it's making him feel strangely hollow, and even his neighbour has somehow noticed how miserable he's been. She, in all of her brilliant grandmother glory, had brought him a chocolate cake and wished him good health.

So even though what he does straight after getting the cake, probably breaks several levels of trust, the only regret he has is that he didn't do it sooner.

 He finds Laura's phone number and dials it frantically, almost screaming at her when she picks up.

 "LAURA HI, I THINK SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT, IS DEREK OKAY, PLEASE TELL ME HE ISN'T HURT!"

 "Stiles-" 

"Oh nonono, please don't use that tone, you sound really dejected and I don't know why! I think I've missed something?"

"Stiles... listen..."

 _"Ohmygosh_ look I honestly have no clue what's happened, please tell me straight up whether Derek is okay or not?!"

"STILES!" she shouts, and Stiles stops, breathing weakly.

"Just... please tell me he's okay, Laura?" He begs.

"To be honest, Derek hasn't been doing so well... but I think I know what happened. Stiles, I need you to answer me truthfully right now, okay?" Laura says, and Stiles has noticed how it's strained her voice sounds.

"Sure."

"Do you remember saying anything to Derek the other night?"

"Yeah... I always say things, I literally never stop saying things to Derek unless I'm asleep, and even then I sometimes sleep-talk."

"Look, Stiles, it was the night when Derek was shifting around a lot, acting really antsy. You asked him what was on his mind, and after a while he... he told you something really important, but he seems to think that you didn't care for what he said." She blurts, and Stiles' face screws up in confusion, because he honestly can't remember having any conversation about anything, after asking Derek what was the matter.

"Stiles, he told you that he loved you." 

And... oh... _oh shit._ Stiles suddenly feels very, very numb, and he feels his heart beating painfully, making his vision go slightly blurry, because there's a high chance that he'd said something along the lines of "whatever, dad" or "*groan* leave me alone" in his sleepy haze. 

"Address... need address."

  

 

And that's how he finds himself, seventeen hours later, outside Derek's infamous loft with nothing but a messenger bag full of essentials, rain pelting onto and around him as he shouts at a cement door.

"DEREK!! YOU MORONIC MORON!! OPEN UP!" He all but screams, hair plastering itself to his forehead as the rain soaks him. "I WILL LITERALLY CRAWL THROUGH THE VENT SYSTEM! YOU TOLD ME ABOUT HOW CORA GOT IN THERE THAT ONE TIME, I KNOW STUFF OKAY!"

There isn't a reply. The door doesn't swing open. The lights don't even turn on.

"DEREK I'M LITERALLY A COP, OPEN UP!" He slams his fist against the cement, groaning in frustration, because either Derek is dead, or is ignoring him and _both of which would be his fault._ His legs go weak and he rests his head on the door, feeling tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. 

 _Maybe Derek's gone, or even worse, maybe Derek knows that he's out there and just doesn't want him anywhere near him._ He realises absently that he's saying this aloud, squeezing _'I'm sorry's'_ in between his sentences. 

And then... he feels strong arms wrap around his middle, and a gentle hand brush the wet hair away from his face, warm skin meeting his own icy cold skin. Stiles instinctively tries to pull away, but then he hears the person speaks.

"Hey, Hey. Stiles? It's Derek, it's me, what are you...?" He asks, and a sob escapes Stiles' lips.

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles, leaning his forehead against his and pressing their chests close, letting Stiles sob into the crook of his neck. He rubs his hand across Stiles' back, muttering sweet nothings and instructing him to _breathe, just breathe, you'll be alright._

They stand like that for a bit, but then the sky above them rumbles with thunder, and Derek ushers him inside and into what must be his bathroom, and then he just leaves.

And Stiles is left feeling crushed, because maybe Derek only let Stiles in so that he wouldn't be rained-on-to-death.

He's surprised though, when he feels a light weight rest on his shoulders and a dark blue towel comes into his vision. Derek has come back, a towel of his own cloaking his head as he rubs Stiles' towel gently over Stiles' hair, drying the rainwater.

"What were you doing Stiles? You could of, jesus, anything could have happened to you." He says.

"And to think, I could have gone to bed, I could have just ignored the noise you were making... Stiles, you could have been really hurt." 

And _oh._ Stiles doesn't know what to say. Should he tell Derek that he didn't mean to be so careless, when he really didn't care as long as he saw Derek. Should he say that Derek looks much more attractive in real life? Should he tell Derek that nothing mattered as long as Derek wasn't sick or dying?

Instead he settles on something shorter, and infinitely harder to speak aloud.

" _I love you."_

Derek goes still. Stiles stares at the ground.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I was so scared, I called Laura in a panic, using the number you didn't even mean to send me. But she told me what you said and I realised that you must have thought I didn't feel the same, and oh god, i just realised that she may have lied to me, Derek I'm so sor-"

And then there's warm lips against his, there's the sound of the towel falling to the ground and a calloused hand cups his face.

He moans, feeling his fingertips tingle and his stomach pool with warmth and nerves all at the same time.

"I love you, _I love you."_ Derek whispers, breath minty against his as though he's just brushed his teeth (he probably has).

"Wait, really, you... what?" Stiles eyes light up and his mouth opens as though he's asking ' whO _MeEEE?!'_

"Yes, Stiles. Also, you're my boyfriend now, no take-backs." He grins and spins on the balls of his feet, making his way out of the room. "Have a shower, I'll get you some clothes."

Stiles stumbles and makes a sound in his throat that's basically a question mark in sound form.

 Derek laughs, and it's deep and warm, before turning to look over his shoulder, "hurry up and strip, Stiles."

And then he's gone, leaving his _boyfriend a_ spluttering and embarrassed movement of limbs.

 

 

And if Stiles keeps his Spark account just to send Derek ' _someone feels a spark'_ messages every so often, well, no one can stop him.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, this was originally meant to be a drabble and then it became a long one-shot, woo!! The prompt was originally from Thomineho! 
> 
>  
> 
> (▰˘◡˘▰✿) Have a lovely day/night lovelies!


End file.
